


What Tomorrow Could Bring

by wowbright



Series: Glee Season 6 Episode Reactions [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Carl Jung - Freeform, Dr. Joyce (OC), Episode Related, Episode: s06e05 The Hurt Locker Part 2, M/M, Meta, Metafiction, Psychotherapy, Therapy, talky fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 17:49:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3298706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wowbright/pseuds/wowbright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After escaping the elevator, Blaine tries to figure out his next step.  Takes place after Invitationals in 6.05, “The Hurt Locker Part 2.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Tomorrow Could Bring

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to chiasmuslovesme, judearaya, and nachochang for pointing out things that my dictation program made well-nigh incomprehensible, and also things that I made well-nigh incomprehensible.
> 
> Also on [tumblr](http://wowbright.tumblr.com/post/110223728120/fic-what-tomorrow-could-bring-blaine-kurt-pg).

Blaine fulfilled Sue Sylvester’s demands. The least she could have done was to give his team something better than third place at Invitationals.

Not that you can expect fairness out of someone who locks you in a fake elevator for 24 hours. But still – all he has now is a life that’s been turned upside down, and not even a bedazzled bowling pin to show for it.

He stares at the celebrating New Directions and tries to figure out what to say to his team. Most of them have filed off the stage with hangdog faces, abandoning their usual peppy posture for slouching around in the front aisle.

“Hey,” says Kurt, sidling up to Blaine and giving him a light shoulder-to-shoulder bump. “Don't let it get you down."

"I'm that transparent?"

"You _did_ cry out in disgust when Sue announced the Warblers as third place." 

An unexpected laugh escapes Blaine's throat. "I forgot about that." 

"You were right to protest. I’m sure the Warblers were impeccable. They always are, especially with you at their helm. Sue just assigned them third-place to spite you.”

“Then why did she give your team first place?” As soon as Blaine says it, he realizes how petulant he sounds. “I’m not saying you guys didn’t deserve first place. The Air Supply song moved me.” He has to look away from Kurt’s face when he says that. He concentrates on the toes of Kurt’s boots.

“I can’t take any credit for the Air Supply. I was locked in an elevator the whole time they were practicing.” He gives Blaine a little inside wink. “But even with that, we didn’t deserve first place – not without choreography. The trick was understanding what the judge wanted.”

“I thought she wanted you guys to lose.”

“She did. But more than that she wants what everyone wants. She wanted to connect to something.” Kurt gives him a soft smile and doesn’t look away. Blaine can’t look away either. His heart lurches toward Kurt, as if it alone could propel Blaine into Kurt’s arms.

Blaine focuses on his feet. He imagines them growing roots into the stage floor. He doesn’t move.

Kurt blinks and glances over at the New Directions. “I’m told Kitty was the one who figured out how to melt Sue Sylvester’s frozen heart.”

But how? Even the kiss seemed to have no real effect on her. Of course, that was a puppet version of Sue. Maybe they’re different. “How did Kitty figure it out? Every time I think I’ve started to understand Sue, she does something like … well, like lock us in an ersatz elevator.”

“I’m not exactly sure, but from what I understand, it involved bribing Becky and some sort of espionage. Breaking into a locked iTunes account or something like that.”

 _Espionage._ Of course! Why hadn’t Blaine thought of that? He would never break the rules, of course, but learning what your judges like is not against the rules. It just hadn’t occurred to him that Sue Sylvester might actively like anything other than Becky, her daughter, and tormenting people. “Then I think you guys deserved first place, choreography or no.”

“Thanks.” Kurt reaches out as if to put his hand on Blaine’s elbow, but draws it back. “I’m glad we won. They needed it.” They watch Kitty flitting about the other members of the New Directions, holding the trophy out for them to touch but never letting go. “Sectionals will be a whole different ballgame.”

Blaine’s eyes move to the woebegone Warblers. “I’ll start my pep talk out with that.” _And maybe end it with ‘And the next time someone like Jane Hayward auditions, don’t turn them down.’_

“If you like, I can help you make a better trophy for them. That ribbon isn’t much to get excited about, and my hot glue gun could use a workout. Maybe that will cheer them up. Glitter paint always makes _me_ feel better.”

Blaine doubts it would make one bit of difference to the Warblers. but he’ll take just about any excuse to spend more time with Kurt. “Yeah, I –”

Blaine is interrupted by the voice of the White Rabbit from _Alice in Wonderland_ shouting from his pants pocket _:_ “[I’m late, I’m late for a very important date!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wDO5ea8MwgY)”

Kurt breaks out in a smile. “Your calendar reminder. I miss hearing that.”

Blaine pulls the phone out from his pocket and reads the reminder. He is supposed to be at his therapist’s in an hour. “Thank god for cell phones,” he mumbles. “I didn’t even realize today was Thursday. I wonder if my therapist will believe the stuff about the elevator.”

“Everyone in Lima knows about Sue Sylvester. There’s no reason she shouldn’t.”

* * *

The closer Blaine gets to Dr. Joyce’s office, the less faith he has that she’ll believe him. it’s not that he doesn’t have a good relationship with his therapist – he does. He trusts her judgment, and he would tell her almost anything. But she also knows that he is prone to misunderstanding situations and overreacting sometimes. She might suggest that his imagination has gotten the best of him the way it did right before he cheated on Kurt. Or maybe she’ll pull out a questionnaire on her iPad and start evaluating him for manic psychosis.

Maybe the whole thing _was_ a hallucination. But wait, no, Kurt was there, and Kurt referred to it after they were both out of the elevator, so –

So it definitely happened, and Blaine definitely needs to tell her about it, because his life is flipped upside down and he doesn’t know what to do. _Oh my god. What am I going to tell Dave?_

 _Stop. One thing at a time._ Blaine takes a deep breath as he parks the car outside Dr. Joyce’s office. He turns off the ignition. He takes another deep breath. _We’re going to figure this out._

* * *

He gives Dr. Joyce the whole lowdown on being locked in a fake elevator with an en suite bathroom and occasional visits from a creepy, tricycle-riding puppet. He tells her about the smoke machine and the sex pollen and the surprisingly good catered picnic from Breadstix.

He mentions the kiss as part of the flow of everything else, glossing over it so he doesn’t have to say anything more. It hurts too much to go into detail right now. Anyway, he doesn’t have the words for how he feels.

Dr. Joyce doesn’t mention manic psychosis. When he’s said what he can say about the elevator, she tilts her head to the side and says, “You know, Blaine, what she did to you is abusive, and it’s illegal.”

Blaine looks at her, stunned. “You believe me.”

“Of course I do.”

“How do you know you can trust me?”

“First of all: Because I do. Second of all: I can’t go into details, but the number of stories I have heard about Sue Sylvester are enough to fill several volumes. I’ll leave that job to a Jungian psychologist, though.”

“Jung’s the one with the archetypes, right?”

“Yes.”

“Does he have one for chaos incarnate?”

“That one’s usually called the Trickster.”

“Huh. Sounds about right.”

“Anyway, back to the subject: Sue Sylvester locked you in a fake elevator for 24 hours and made you do things under duress. Technically, that’s kidnapping. Have you thought about pressing charges?”

Blaine shrugs. “That’s kind of the least of my worries right now.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” He swallows heavily. “It was the best 24 hours I’ve had since I left New York.”

“And that’s bad.” She doesn’t ask it; she states it. The tone of Blaine’s voice told her just how bad it was.

“Yes. Because everything that happened in there, it doesn’t match my life on the outside.”

“Tell me about that.”

“The best 24 hours of my life? Or the world outside the elevator?”

“Both. In whatever order you prefer.”

“Well, obviously the puppet and the dingy bathroom weren’t great, and the sex pollen was a bit much, but – most of the time it was just me and Kurt, being friends. I’ve missed that for longer than we’ve been broken up.” Blaine sighs and fidgets with the buttons of his cardigan. “I noticed it a lot, the last few months in New York, that the easy part of our friendship was gone. It was so hard just to relax with him and talk about nothing and laugh at our own stupid jokes. I mean, we still had a nice time together, but it wasn’t… easy. And I kept trying to get it back, but after he dumped me, I realized… I realized that missing the easy part of our friendship was like missing the way Christmas feels when you’re six years old. You just have to accept you’re never going to have that experience again. And I was really proud of myself for being mature enough to realize that.

“But in the elevator, it was easy again,” Blaine says. “It was like – since we’re not really in a relationship anymore, we could just accept each other for who we are and not get annoyed at the other person for not giving us what we want.”

“What did you want from Kurt, when you were dating?”

“I wanted –” Blaine was about to say _I wanted him to love me_ , but it’s more complicated than that. It’s more like _I wanted him to make me know that he loved me_ , or maybe – “I wanted him to make me feel like the space I take on the planet isn’t wasted.”

“Is that something that somebody else can do for you?”

“No. But I thought it was. I thought – I thought that if I loved him enough and did everything the right way and made him happy, then he could make me happy back.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re wasted space. In fact, I think the world is a lot better off for you being around.”

“Thanks,” Blaine says, because it’s the polite thing to do and because he knows she’s sincere. But he knows it’s true, whether she believes it or not. Whether Kurt believes it or not. “Coming back to Lima and dealing with my own stuff, knowing that I couldn’t depend on Kurt to make it go away – that helped me understand.”

“And what did you think Kurt wanted from you?”

“I think –” Blaine pauses, studies the motes of dust dancing in the sunlight that slices through the center of the room. What did Kurt want? That was always the question that Blaine was trying to answer, wasn’t it? And he thought he had the answer so many times, and acted upon it – but it still wasn’t enough. Kurt was still dissatisfied. If Blaine really thought about it, thought about Kurt’s body language and the way his shoulders would tense at certain moments, the way that even his _I love you_ s seemed guarded and fearful and … _resigned_ –

That was it: Kurt loved Blaine, but it wasn’t something he embraced. He was resigned to it, the way that Blaine was resigned to being short and having hair like wild broccoli.

Blaine can’t remember it being any other way since before Kurt left for New York, since before Blaine –

Oh. It’s obvious what Kurt wanted, isn’t it? He mumbled about it under his breath often enough, made frequent stabbing jokes about it in front of their friends.

“He wanted me to never have cheated on him,” Blaine says. “In high school, he’d always seen us as this fairy tale romance – I mean, I did, too. We talked about being two princes in a Disney musical. We were supposed to live happily ever after. And I ruined everything.”

“You weren’t the only person contributing to the relationship.”

“Yeah, but for him it _was_ me who was responsible. I was the one who ruined our dream. I mean, I guess it might have gotten ruined some other way eventually but … I’m the one who changed the narrative. And I would have done anything to undo sleeping with Eli – sometimes I still lie awake at night wondering what would have happened if I’d never accepted his friend request. But I can’t undo it.”

“That must be frustrating, knowing that you can’t go back in time and fix things.”

“My friend Brittany – the one who went to MIT – she talks sometimes about having a time machine. I mean, I’m pretty sure it’s an imaginary time machine, but you never know with her. So way before Kurt and I even got back together, I asked her if she would take me back to the afternoon before I slept with Eli.” He smiles at the memory, about the way that Brittany looked at him in that condescending yet somehow affectionate way of hers – like he was a fool, but a charming one that deserved happiness.

“What did she say?”

“She patted me on the head and said some things aren’t meant to be undone.”

“Hmmm. I’d like to meet this Brittany.”

Blaine only half-hears her. He’s onto the next thought. “I just wonder …”

“What?”

“I didn’t feel any of that resentment from Kurt when we were in the elevator. And I wonder if that’s because we’re not dating anymore. I’m no longer his unfaithful boyfriend, because I’m not his boyfriend. And I no longer need him to prove to me that I deserve to have a place in the world because – well, I know I do. So we could be friends again. And it was nice.”

“Just nice?”

“More than nice. I –” The words catch in his throat. “I’m still in love with him.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“When I was in the elevator, that was okay. It was okay to make inside jokes and feel all light and giddy and talk and talk about nothing important for hours on end. But outside – we can’t do that outside. I have a boyfriend on the outside. And he’s dating someone. I don’t know how serious it is, but… I don’t want to become a cheater again.”

“Those aren’t your only two choices.”

“Wait. I’m a step behind you. Which aren’t my only two choices?”

“Being faithful to Dave or cheating on him.”

“Are you telling me to break up with Dave?”

“I’m not telling you to break up with anyone. I’m saying it’s an option. Or you can talk to him about opening up your relationship. That works for some people.”

Blaine swallows heavily. “Dave’s been so good to me.”

“And so you feel like you owe it to him to stay?”

Blaine nods. “Yes.”

“Do you love Dave?”

“I thought what we had was enough. But …” Blaine thinks of Dave’s smile, of the warmth of his body in their bed. He thinks of all the comfort he’s found there, how Dave gave him a place to be safe when all seemed lost. A small ember of affection flares in his heart, seems like maybe it will grow into a fire but then – there’s nothing for it to catch onto. It flickers and dims. “It doesn’t feel like it anymore.”

“Don’t you think Dave deserves someone who wants to be with him out of more than a sense of obligation?”

The words strike too close to the bone. “That’s not fair. You know that’s not the only reason I’m with him. He’s fun, and he’s kind, and I can watch football with him. Kurt hardly ever wants to watch football. And when he does, he spends most of the time critiquing their uniforms.”

Dr. Joyce suppresses a smile. “Aaah, football. Is that the most important ingredient in romance?”

A headache is forming right between Blaine’s eyebrows. He’s exhausted and he’s pretty sure his clothes are starting to smell, and the last thing he needs is his therapist – who is supposed to be sympathetic and understanding and kind at all times – ribbing him over football. He should have rescheduled this appointment. “So you don’t like football,” he says. “You and Kurt should hang out together sometime.”

“Actually, I love football. I just never got the impression it was the thing that was most important to you in a partner. Am I wrong? Is sharing a love of football a necessary part of romance for you?”

“No,” Blaine sighs.

“What is, then? What do you need for a romantic relationship to work?”

Blaine blinks back tears. “I need Kurt.”

Dr. Joyce doesn’t say anything. She just lets his words hang in the air between them. They seem almost tangible to Blaine, like if he reached out he could feel their dimensions against his hand. They’re sharper than he meant them to be.

So he softens them. “I don’t need Kurt to live or to be happy. But if I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving  somebody? I want it to be Kurt,” Blaine says. “I wish I didn’t.”

“Because Kurt hurt you?”

“That’s a lot of it.” But it’s also more complicated than that. There’s something more fundamental than fear of getting hurt, but he doesn’t know how to put it into words. So he starts where he can. “In the elevator, when we finally kissed, even though part of me didn’t want to, there was this other part of me that was glad Principal Sylvester was making us do it, because I never – I don’t remember the last kiss I had with Kurt before we broke up. And I wanted something to remember. And I was also glad because I knew it didn’t count. It wasn’t a choice we were making. It wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t change how I felt about Kurt, and it wouldn’t change my relationship with Dave. It wouldn’t count as cheating, because it wasn’t my decision. And it wouldn’t mean anything except goodbye.”

“But it doesn’t feel like goodbye?”

“No. It felt like -” Blaine grabs a Kleenex from the side table. “It felt like coming home. It felt like I was back with my soulmate where I belonged. And I hate that.”

“Why?”

“Because Kurt can’t be my soulmate. I thought he was my soulmate before and look what that did to me when he broke up with me. It almost destroyed me.”

“Is Dave your soulmate?”

Blaine shakes his head. “I don’t want to have a soulmate. I want to be my own soulmate.”

“Love makes us very vulnerable to what other people do. That’s one of its risks. The thing you need to decide for yourself is whether that risk outweighs the benefits.”

“I’m so scared of him hurting me again.”

“I know,” Dr. Joyce says softly.

“But I’m _more_ scared of losing myself again.” He fiddles with the Kleenex in his hands, folding and unfolding it as he speaks. “I’ve learned a lot about myself since leaving New York. I’ve learned how to fall without depending on him to pick me up again. I can – I can feel okay about myself without needing him to tell me that I’m okay. What if I forget it all?”

“Those lessons are hard to forget. And if you start to forget, I’m always happy to remind you.”

Blaine presses the Kleenex against his palm. “Do you really think I could? Learn how to love him like that? As equals?”

Dr. Joyce nods. “I think you already know how.”

The tears Blaine’s been blinking back start to fall. The Kleenex in his hand is worthless. He grabs a new one from the side table. “Dave’s been so good to me. I feel like I’m cheating on him by thinking about any of this. And the way I kissed Kurt – it went way beyond what I planned.”

“You haven’t been unfaithful, Blaine. It’s okay to sort out your feelings. And Sue forced you to kiss. It was your only way out of the elevator.”

“She didn’t force me to stick my tongue in Kurt’s mouth. She didn’t force me to _enjoy_ it.”

“I might beg to differ.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “Maybe you should be the one to explain that to Dave.”

Dr. Joyce laughs. There’s something contagious about the way she laughs, about the way her whole body moves with it, about the way her hair dances on her shaking shoulders and catches the sunlight just so.

Blaine finds himself laughing, too.

“As your therapist, I’m not sure I should enjoy your sarcasm so much,” Dr. Joyce says when their laughter subsides. “But I do, Blaine. It shows you’re ready to fight. So, what do you want to fight for?”

“I feel like I should be fighting for my relationship with Dave.”

“Do you want to talk about that?”

Blaine shakes his head. “No. Not right now. Right now I want to sleep and stop feeling like I live in a contorted teen romance novel being written by Sue Sylvester.”

“You’re not a plot device. You’re Blaine Anderson. The question is, what story does Blaine Anderson want to write?”

Blaine’s never asked himself that question before. He’s never thought he could. Up to the moment that Kurt broke up with him, Blaine had always believed in fate. There were certain events in his life that had been determined before he’d even been born – maybe in past lives, maybe by the movements of the stars.

Now his future unrolls before him like a blank scroll. Dr. Joyce has just put the pen in his hand and told him the scroll is his to fill with whatever words he chooses.

He sees the endless blank scroll, feels the pen in his hand. He could write anything.

What does Blaine Anderson want to write?

“I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t know.”


End file.
